


Yet to be Named

by skyepie



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: 18th Century, Accidental Voyeurism, Age Difference, Attempted Murder, Disabled Character, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder, Sexual Content, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyepie/pseuds/skyepie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to 18th century UtaPri, set in a fictitious European country called Utoa during the time of Enlightenment. Ren and Ryuuya are both part of the Royal Guard, a group of elite soldiers sworn to protect the King and his family. In the midst of a Royal Wedding, court intrigue, peril, and possibly war, how can these two come together and possibly fall in love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [an average shitty prince](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=an+average+shitty+prince).



> This is for Giulia. <3 I promised a new RyuuRen fic a long, long time ago. I will try my best to keep it updated regularly.
> 
> Note: There are many mentions of Christianity in this prologue because of its setting. I'm not religious so what I know is what I read in textbooks. Don't worry, religious content will not be a constant theme. Also note that familiarity between characters will be different from canon, so some nicknames and ways of addressing characters will be changed.

The dust floated so slowly, captured in the trickles of light that seeped through the coloured glass, which dimly lit the Princess' concentrated face. Her eyes were closed, and her gloved hands laced together in prayer as she knelt in a deep court-style curtsy before the altar. There she remained completely still and quiet while her retainers watched from the farthest end of the nave.

This was her favourite cathedral. She would dearly miss it. Becoming engaged to the Prince of a foreign land meant that she would have to leave it behind— all of her treasured places and cherished people. But while clasped in the hands of faith, her soul was moved by the chorus of plainchant echoing off the Gothic walls, as somewhere in the grand residence a group of choir monks conducted their divine service.

It was the last monastic cathedral in all of Utoa, naturally attached to a cloister, but belonging only in name to The Order of Saint Hayato, for legally it was just a fiscalized bureaucratic institution. Her great-grandfather abolished the monastic church, bringing in secularization that finalized the separation between church and state. But since he spared the episcopalization of Onpu Cathedral, the Hayatians have always welcomed the royal family with open arms. As it were, they could _only_ welcome the royal family because it was the King's blood that ever saw something special in them.

“Your Highness,” rang a young lady's voice.

The Princess fluttered open her eyes, slowly turning her head to the side in a daze. It seems she had been kneeling there for many minutes, lost in the symphony of liturgy.

There was a virtuous power in their voices, a spiritual sway felt strongly by the last three generations of Utoan Kings. She could only describe it in words as a pulse, of something earnest, holy, and happy. These were words once shared by her own father, King Mitsuo Saotome the Shining.

“Haruka,” the impatient voice echoed, this time loudly and informally, which startled the Princess out of drifting away again.

“Is something the matter, Tomochika...?”

While holding the edges of her skirt, the King's youngest daughter rose gracefully to her feet, and turned to meet the lady-in-waiting with a sweet smile. Her honey-coloured eyes reflected a purity that meant she was too good for this world.

Tomochika sighed indignantly. “I wish you wouldn't pray so close to the ground. I'm absolutely sure that carpet hasn't been cleaned in centuries. I _think_ I'm breathing dust that's older than our dynasty.”

Haruka laughed and clapped her hands together, walking back up the aisle to meet her halfway.

“I cannot believe that you woke me up so early— on _this_ day of all days,” she continued to scold her. “It takes hours to ride out to the countryside, and yet you wanted to be here for the morning prayers. And need I remind you how uncomfortable I am whenever I must accompany you to Onpu? I hope you haven't forgotten, but I _am_ Protestant.”

“Oh! I do apologize, Marchioness. It's just... you know of my fondness for the chant here. It's very unlike the one at Visirie. I can't say why it continuously draws me back, but I find great comfort in the sounds. It gives me hope, and... I think I _may_ need some today.”

The attendant sighed sheepishly, carefully adjusting the wispy pieces of the Princess' elaborate hairstyle.

“Hmmm... We'll have to apply more powder when we get back. The Queen of Fashion should be flattered that such a cute Utoan Princess can idolize her this much.”

Haruka slipped a fan out of a slit in her dress, and opened it up in front of her face to conceal the emerging pink glow. She had quite the girl-crush on France's Marie Antoinette.

“Please,” she squeaked.

The kind of dress she wore was difficult to maneuver in, a stiff-bodied gown reserved for special court occasions. It was singularly jade green, and bared her shoulders, featuring a deep oval neckline.

The boisterous companion fervently fluffed up the lace flounces that tiered around Haruka's elbows, then made a turn around the Princess to smooth out the fabric that cascaded over her pannier.

“You're going to regret putting a stay on this early when tonight comes. My feet are already hurting,” Tomochika shook her head in resignation. She ran both hands flat down the bodice of her own purple dress. “I think I may change gowns when we return. Do you think the red one with pleated robings would suit me better?”

A man's voice suddenly interjected. “I think the indigo one with blue lace trimming brings out the fire in your hair far more. A really great way to warn people of danger.”

Tomochika whipped her head around to glare daggers at the lone guard standing away from them. “No one asked you, Officer!”

“ _Second Commanding Officer_ ,” he corrected her. “And it seems that no one asks me anything. I want to be part of this conversation too. Look, I'm dressed up as well.” He straightened his collar as if to prove a point.

“No, you're wearing a Royal Guard uniform as usual. Adding the matching tricorne hat is not 'dressing it up'. Wait a minute— I can't talk to you.” Tomochika turned to Haruka. “Your Highness, I _can't_ talk to to him. He _cut_ his hair!” Her hands flew up exasperatedly. “He's not cute anymore!”

The Princess chuckled at the normal exchange between them. “Your little ponytail will be missed, but I think this style becomes you. You look very handsome, Ryuuya.”

At that, he smiled, and reached for his hat, pulling it off to make a deep bow of appreciation. His coiffed hair was the colour of marigolds.

“You do me honour, Your Highness. I last wore it in this style when I first joined the Guard.”

His uniform comprised of a long collared coat, waistcoat, and breeches of deep blue trimmed in silver. And like the Marchioness mentioned, his hat matched too. But instead of the usual riding boots, Ryuuya wore low-heeled buckle shoes.

For the special event that evening, many of the Guard would be attending the palace in their indoor attire.

Tomochika rolled her eyes, but Ryuuya replaced his hat with pride. “It makes me feel a bit younger,” he mused.

A small sword was holstered in a strap on his thigh. It protruded behind him through a slit in the tail of his coat. And in one deep pocket hid a loaded flintlock pistol ready to protect the King's bloodline. Every member of the Royal Guard was expected to carry them. However, being in a church made him exceptionally nervous about having weapons on his person.

The Princess seemed to reflect a similar feeling.

“Perhaps we should not speak of such things anymore,” Haruka spoke up anxiously. “In the house of God, it may be seen as vanity.”

A new wave of plainchant began in the cathedral. The Princess looked behind the guard to where the voices came from yonder.

Ryuuya nodded in acknowledgment. “If I may, and this may be a concern of God as well... What does Your Highness think of the rumours?”

Their eyes locked when he asked the question. He tried to read her gaze, but Haruka relented and looked away.

Tomochika broke her own rule by speaking directly to him, jabbing a finger at his direction. “Hey! You dare bring up that ludicrous, scandalous— ?!”

Ryuuya put his hands up in defense while she stormed toward him at an alarming pace.

 _Girls protecting other girls can be scary_ , he thought.

She stopped the advance, her mulberry eyes becoming tame. “Look, you simply _can't_ believe everything that you hear, Officer Hyuuga, or Captain Hyuuga, or whatever it is that you're called.”

“All of those—“ he confidently slipped in.

She blew out a sigh, and put up a finger to silence him. “The King would _never_ do that to his own daughter.”

“I thought so t—” he started.

“Furthermore,” she continued boldly, as though they all understood the implication, “Utoa must remain in His Holiness' favour. Pope Raging I and His Majesty were never on good terms to begin with. This country remains protected by the Roman Catholic Church because we have their barest approval. But something like this would...” She trailed off, scrunching up her face in distaste about the unspoken idea.

Much to the Pope's chagrin, King Mitsuo Saotome the Shining— appropriately nicknamed 'King Shining' was an avid believer of the Enlightenment, as was his father and forefather. He passed many laws that appalled the church, and questioned his fidelity to the Roman Catholic faith. So should he ever publicly denounce his faith, Rome would break off with them completely. However, Raging I's only nephew, a Duke of Spain, was married to the King's second eldest daughter, so the Pope could never officially take a stand against him without one such legitimate reason, lest he upset the balance between the two joined houses.

Ryuuya looked behind the Marchioness to see his Princess, who suddenly had her back turned, returning down the aisle— perhaps to pray again. But she began to stumble, nearly taking a tumble.

“Oh—!” Haruka quickly found her balance. Holding the dress up, she slowly turned around with what looked to be a limp.

The officer swiftly stepped past the bewildered Tomochika to kneel by Haruka's side, retrieving the fallen article. In his hand, he held her satin shoe. Its buckle, encrusted with gems, glimmered exquisitely in the little light that filtered down on them.

He looked up bashfully, waiting for her to lift out a foot, to which she shyly and immediately obliged him. Ryuuya carefully lifted the shoe onto her foot, noting to himself the quality of her linen stocking.

“Well that was simply charming,” Tomochika intoned sarcastically, her watchful eyes scrutinizing him.

Ryuuya rose to his feet and asked if she was alright, to which she carefully nodded with a half smile. She generously lifted her hand for him—he took it nervously.

“Thank you,” Haruka breathed, walking back up the aisle with him. “Perhaps God already heard me and needs me not to bother Him again.” She laughed at her own joke, and Ryuuya humoured it with a chuckle.

Realizing that she'd been ignored, Tomochika puffed up her cheeks in annoyance. She picked up the former topic again as the three of them began to leave. “It's such a disgusting rumour anyway.”

“Well, incest does not bode well with the holy higher ups,” the guard posed matter-of-factly.

There was speculation that Haruka's groom-to-be was somehow, in fact, her maternal step-brother. If the rumour _was_ steeped in truth, it would mean an incredible assumption— that her mother, the late Queen Kotomi, had survived the shipwreck all those years ago. And upon that presumption, thereafter re-married the King of Agnapolis.

Despite no one ever citing a basis for the claim, it was slanderous for both the King and his new Queen, not to mention hurtful to their children. The rumours were banned on the palace grounds.

“I don't think this topic is anymore appropriate than our first one,” Haruka spoke up, reminding them both again that they were in a church.

Tomochika grimaced at that, mumbling an apology.

“You're right, Princess. Please forgive me,” he regretfully acknowledged, and she looked up at him.

He turned his head slightly, his amber eyes fixed to the stained glass windows growing more distant behind them. He stared at the colourful likeness of the Virgin Mary, careful to avoid the Princess' earnest gaze.

“His Majesty is unreadable.” After several years of being in the King's inner circle, Ryuuya still didn't know that much about him. “I can't tell what he thinks, or what he schemes, but I don't believe that he would _condemn_ the soul of his youngest daughter. He loves Her Highness—of that I'm certain.”

The wispy pink hair on her head bounced as Haruka nodded. “I wonder what kind of man His Highness Prince Cecil is like?”

Their eyes did meet then, and she changed her face to a hopeful one.

He grinned back at her. “We will both know the answer tonight.”


	2. Summer (I)

Ren warily leaned back up against the wall. A cool breeze filtered through his fringe, drying up the perspiration that accumulated from maintaining a stiff stance all evening.

Being a part of the Royal Guard was no joke, at least not that night. Very important noble guests were assembled in the walls behind him, joyously celebrating a different kind of occasion. _A royal engagement_.

He could hear the general commotion, the music, sounds of glass clinking, and platters clacking. The scent of wine and slow-roasted meat continuously wafted out to greet him, to which his stomach anxiously replied.

The night was eerily quiet. The lanterns hanging all around continued to flicker in reply to soft gusts of summer, their fires casting a warm luminescence on his face.

He surveyed the gardens before him, exhaling a sigh as he resigned to his duty.

Just a short flight of stairs down and Ren would be level with the beautiful fountain that trickled and glowed under the moonlight. He longed to sit on the ledge of it, to slip in his fingers and play with the flies on the water. It was something that easily passed time on nights when circumstances were... less tense.

Even relaxing from his position as he did now was somewhat of a risk, with demotion already looming over him for the dozens of misdemeanors he'd racked up over the past year. But that barely fazed him for how dispassionate he was about being a guard. It's not his fault he was dissuaded by prestige and military honour. His family's name just didn't _need_ more honour.

The House of Jinguji was already prominently wealthy, and a rival to only two more, which included the King's own. The Jinguji's skillfully ran a banking institution that monopolized the entire country. There was hardly need for him to exist after two older brothers, but he relented and joined the Royal Guard a per the eldest's wishes. If the latter hadn't ascended to Head of the household, he'd have been less easily persuaded.

Being a guard so close to the King's circle meant rarely finding the time to pursue separate things, which was the best way to remain a bachelor in many opinions. And just as well, he preferred to be free from those expectations.

But he wasn't free from the trouble that came for him.

“Nyaa!” Out of the blue, a black cat ran out from beneath a bush, flying up the steps, dashing so fast across the veranda that it skidded while turning the corridor.

“Uoh—!” Ren froze, bewildered. It figured that the only intruder foolish enough to interrupt a royal reception would be a damn cat.

Ren grudgingly unglued himself from the wall and began a sprint after it, leaving one hand carefully guarding the hilt of the sword on his hip to keep it from swinging. His tied hair flew behind him in orange ripples.

While running, a worry carried through him—being discharged on account of failing to apprehend a cat would be _really_ shameful. He groaned as shouts of confusion and excitement erupted from within the banquet. A sudden flurry of barking added weight to his grimace.

He met the ball with wary eyes, speedily taking in the scene—hundreds of nobles dancing, lounging, eating, decorating the walls, while others joined together in tight circles of discussion. He spotted his brothers in one corner fiercely glaring back at him.

Ren quickly closed the space between him and the few extra guards waiting on site. “A cat got in on my watch. Small, black, green eyes.” A guard immediately departed to spread the information. Ren then faced the second one. “Can you take the second back entrance? I left it unguarded—”

At the same time, a shaggy golden canine darted toward the end of the hall where it must have chased the feline, erupting in the same kind of barking from earlier. Ren left it to his peer, and hastily tailed after them, his expression grave but cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Elizabeth!” called out the gentle voice of a worried minstrel.

But the blond's distress was drowned out by the hysterical cheers of the aristocracy and the King's booming laughter. They saw the commotion as a form of entertainment, and he breathed a sigh of relief knowing that the scolding later would be only half-serious.

Ren and two other guards emptied out into the hallways of the castle where the animals escaped. They each took separate paths as a means to block the creatures in one area. Ren decided to chase them directly.

But as he turned a corner, another dog nearly lifted him off his feet as it rushed past him with excited howls, its large white body stampeding ahead in a way that reminded Ren of a stallion.

“You have to be kidding me?!”

So now they were after two dogs and one cat on one of their country's most important nights of celebration. He flatly wondered if the evening would be remembered more for their Princess' engagement or the animals that ran amok.

The other guards hadn't closed in on their sides yet, and the parade of animals continued to zig-zag through the corridors—until Ren was startled by the sound of a tumble and canines yelping. His gut twisted in concern for the cat, but when Ren turned the corner he was surprised to find a fellow guard on the floor with both dogs sloppily kissing his ears.

“Heheheh, h-hhey—” The other man's laughter was so lighthearted, he almost forgot his job was at stake.

It also took him some seconds to recognize it, but he was staring into the face of Ryuuya Hyuuga. Yes, a King's favourite, poorly stifling a throaty chuckle as the dogs moved to lick his neck and cheeks.

Ren shook his head against the contagious smile, biting his lower lip to keep it contained. His next problem was still at hand.

After getting a good arm around each canine, Ryuuya pointed his thumb toward the open door of a study next to him. “It went in there.”

Ren breathed in relief. “Good,” he nodded back.

He slowly entered the room so as not to frighten it. The closet study was one of dozens inside the palace. They weren't private to anyone, and freely available to the tenants, but no one really used them.

Dusty bookshelves lined the walls, and a few papers littered the floor at the front of the desk. Ren noticed an empty ink bottle knocked over in what was likely the feline's path. By following the slight displacement of items, he was led behind the desk to where the cat was found quivering in the corner.

Ren expressed his sympathy, speaking in a soft, low voice, trying to lull the cat into a sense of security. “Come here, pussycat. I'm not with those dogs. I'm just a _big_ cat. I'm like you.” He slowly reached out toward it, making kissing noises to coerce it closer. The cat met his pleading eyes, and just for a moment they seemed to connect. It walked forward and nuzzled his hand. And just like that, Ren left the room with the black cat snug in his arms.

The other guards had finally found their way to them. Ryuuya was also standing, dealing with two more people that had come from Ren's direction. A rather shady and mysterious figure in the Royal Guard—Camus, came to insult their incompetence. He retrieved his white wolfhound without uttering a word of apology. And as the foreign man stalked off, the soft-spoken minstrel stayed instead to thank the men for their help.

Natsuki was a popular court musician, really famous for his outstanding talent, but also noticed for his gigantism, and praised in spite of his disability. He faced them with a sweet smile, but his milky white eyes stared ahead blankly.

“Thank you very much! I apologize on behalf of my Lizzie.” Elizabeth was his eye-seeing dog.

“Your companion animal should be tethered where you sit,” he heard Ryuuya scold him.

Ren's childhood friend happened to be the minstrel's patron, so he knew of the story behind it, but not every detail was common knowledge inside the court. Natsuki was afflicted with a split personality that rampaged every time he saw a trigger. The bard's own childhood friend worked in vain to keep it a secret from him, but he couldn't stop Natsuki from eventually finding out the truth. Worried for everyone's safety, he doused his own eyes in acid.

Ren tried to not imagine how painful that must have been. He put a hand on Natsuki's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He looked to Ryuuya next. “I'm going to take this bundle of fur back to the terrace. I'm sorry for the inconveniences. It got past me first.”

“Thank _you_ for owning up to it,” said the older man. “I'll make sure you don't get in too much trouble for this. Besides, we all heard the King laughing. I think you're safe.” The soldier stepped forward to pet the cat.

Despite his words, the younger guard felt a pang of nervousness.“You know the King better than I do, so—”

“You're a Jinguji, right?” Ryuuya sized him up.

Ren put on his smug smirk. “What gave it away, Officer?”

“I heard there was one Jinguji left in the military, plus I might have skimmed over your transcripts at some point. And actually, it was your hair. That colour is rare around here,” he pointed matter-of-factly.

“Well, that's the first time a person only knows me by my hair,” Ren spoke bemused. In truth, it was usually by his scandalous reputation. What were they calling him? A _gigolo_?

“Nyao!” the cat mewled.

“Take that thing outside,” Ryuuya reminded him.

Ren deflated in confidence.“Ah.. Yes sir.” He reluctantly turned on his heel, coddling the animal to keep it calm. Behind him, he heard a new conversation sparking between the guard and the bard. Their voices continued to get smaller, but he could hear Ryuuya rebuking Natsuki's theory on the Princess being a fairy. He smiled at the idea.


	3. Summer (II)

It was early morning, and the sun began to slowly rise up over the horizon. The party had officially ended a couple hours before, with only the last few guests still shuffling into their carriages, and others retiring to the palace guest quarters.

Servants clamored about, sweeping the floors, emptying tables, and hand-washing furniture that was used the evening before.

Most of the Royal Guard that night had also been replaced in the new shift. Ren, however, stuck around long enough to be invited to a meal with the rest of them.

He wasn't scolded as bad as he thought, though the King's favourite must have had something to do with it, because he'd caught sight of the man earlier speaking expressively to the Palace Guard Commander.

And it was likewise Ryuuya that invited him to share food with them, and where else but on the veranda he himself guarded only hours before. He would admit it was a nice place to eat breakfast. Or dinner. Whatever it was supposed to be. He hadn't eaten the night before.

“Ran-Ran, hurry, hurry!” A kitchen servant hurried over, carrying a bundle of cloth over his back, which Ren presumed was full of food. He wore a white bandana over his neck-length brown hair, and flour dust splattered his arms and clothes.

The kitchen servant's companion was another member of the Royal Guard. The tall spiky-haired man reminded Ren of a silver dandelion, but his expression was far from flowery. He was lugging two enormous covered platters, and scowled at everyone around him, barking at anybody in his way. He looked familiar.

Ah— he finally recognized the grumpy guard. Ranmaru Kurosaki was his name. They used to meet at luncheons and balls as children, though the man, _then_ a kid, was slightly older than him— than Ren, as well as his friend Masato. The two would follow Ranmaru everywhere.

The Kurosaki House fell from grace many years ago. They were once a prominent power next to the names Saotome, Jinguji, and Hijirikawa. He remembered it to be quite an infamous scandal. But he was surprised that the rumour was true, that the scion, despite being stripped of nobility, had worked his way up to join the Royal Guard and make something of himself.

Thinking about it, that was how Ryuuya made it into the palace as well. All commoners –or those stripped of titles— were required to take an entrance exam to join the Royal Guard, or else be considered a normal soldier. It was different for the nobles, who could easily join, and considered it a pastime. Being far away from any real action, they hardly needed to work as diligently on their skills. Truthfully, Ren wasn't sure he could hold himself up in a sword fight against Ranmaru and Ryuuya. They were the real soldiers.

“Oiiiii, let's eat already! I'm starving! How long're you gonna make me wait? Tch.”

The silver dandelion made quite a buzz, because Ryuuya stopped his conversation with another guard to motion them over. “This way! We'll get to catch the rest of the sunrise!”

Everyone was still in their uniforms, but most had taken off their hats. They looked overworked, and ready to rest and chat with their peers. But it looked more like friendship to Ren, who followed along nostalgically.

On the subject of friends—even rival-friends, he pondered on making arrangements with Syo and Masato sometime soon. The latter was always especially busy, being Head of the Hijirikawa House. It was a huge position to uphold.

The kitchen servant cut into his thoughts. “I've got all of your favourites!” He lay down the bundle as everyone settled on the veranda overlooking the fountain and gardens. The air was still warm, and a few birds sang the first songs of the day.

A few of them opted to sit on some of the steps going down, which he himself obliged, trying not to impose on the group already familiar with each other. His presumption before was right; they seemed like close friends.

“Ah, but you,” the cheery cook turned to face him. “I don't know your favourites. Who might you be?”

“He's a Jinguji,” Ryuuya said coolly, then added for good hilarity,“And apparently the cat fiasco was on him.”

The kitchen servant's eyes sparkled. “Ohh, a noble!”

“Incompetent,” Ranmaru spat from his corner. He seemed to be sulking, but Ryuuya knew it was jealousy. He must have wanted to handle the cat.

“ _Now_ , now,” the cook pouted. “I've brought all this leftover food, so let's share nicely.” He turned back to Ren. “It's nice to meet you, Jinguji. I'm Reiji Kotobuki.”

Ren smiled at that, replying in a sultry tone. “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. _Bukki_ sounds just right for you. You can call me Ren.”

“B-Bukki?” The brunet seemed unsure as he pat down the cloth.

Ren nodded. “It's short and cute like you are.” The group cheered on that remark, turning Reiji bright red.

“L-Let's get everyone's stomachs full!”

Reiji uncovered and unraveled the food to everyone's delight. The white cloth served as a surface for all the food to lay on. He set out loaves of bread, a few dull knives, a block of hard butter, big wedges of different cheeses, quite a bit of fresh fruit, dried fruit, hard cakes, and cooked potatoes that were no longer warm to name a few. He also uncovered the platters that Ranmaru brought with him, revealing heaping scraps of pigeon, mutton, partridge, and duck.

Some of the latecomers joined them with a dozen glasses in their arms, and another carried four unfinished wine bottles. The men hollered at that, the idea of fine wine whetting everyone's appetite. Together they really enjoyed their dinner—breakfast—meal, making a crumbly mess all over themselves, talking, laughing, licking fingers, and guzzling it down with good drink.

Ren stayed quiet for the most part, only replying when talked to directly. Ryuuya, Reiji, and Ranmaru mostly carried on the conversation, which everyone was happy to follow.

But somewhere near the end of their picnic, Reiji got up and dusted himself off, growing a pained smile as he squinted up at the sun bursting with new daylight. “I trust Ran-Ran to bring the extras back. I have to leave ahead of everyone and prepare the baked goods. Her Majesty loves fresh croissants in the morning. And also, it's the start of the month again. So, I'll.. I'll be making some cream puffs, and you know, they take quite a bit of time. So if I want to get them to Hakase on time..” He trailed off in silence, then looked down at them all with a renewed smile. “Ai-Ai will be pleased, don't you think?”

“I'll take care of it,” is all Ranmaru said, looking at the cake in his hand. Reiji nodded, then hurried away, flashing a wave at everyone.

The group instantly broke out into murmurs, which set the spiky flower off. “You're all annoying! Just eat your food.”

Ren looked uncomfortable and confused, something Ryuuya happened to notice...though it wasn't because he was staring at him or anything. Out of pity, or maybe for the sake of talking, he pat down a spot on the cloth next to him, calling Ren over. “Oi.” But Ren only looked at him.

“Jinguji.” He continued patting the floor until the latter reluctantly albeit mildly curiously shifted over to his side. “You know of the Royal Surgeon's in-patient, right? The one simply known as Ai.”

“Oh, uhm, was he talking about Lord Kisaragi? I mean—formerly..Lord.”

Ranmaru looked away in contempt, shoveling in the rest of his food so he wouldn't spew more trouble.

“Mhm,” Ryuuya nodded, “It's been several years since that incident. I feel sympathy for you noble boys, having to take on large roles at a young age. It puts a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”

Ren understood the implication; attempted suicide. He didn't understand what that pressure felt like. He suddenly found himself lucky to be third-born.

“They managed to pull him out of the ocean on time, but by then the water had done something to his head. He wasn't himself anymore, he didn't _know_ himself.” Ryuuya was careful not to project his voice. He didn't want to make a spectacle of such sadness, only an explanation.

“Did Bukki know him?” Ren tried to keep his voice low. The guards began up a new conversation, and he wanted to continue their chat in private.

Ryuuya looked confused at the use of the nickname, but answered him softly. “He and Reiji were very good confidants.” He decided to end it at that, but something about the interested look in Ren's eyes made Ryuuya want to tell him more.

“Aine was a very delicate person. Anyone could see he wasn't happy. After the incident, he no longer responded to his name. But he _would_ respond to its diminutive—Ai. No one knows why.” That explained _one_ thing. Ryuuya continued, “Hakase thinks Reiji is a bad influence, so he hardly gets the chance to see him. But the only thing that remains of his old self is his love of cream puffs. The surgeon has an agreement that lets Reiji interact with him once a month on the pretense of bringing baked goods.”

Ren slowly nodded his head. He wanted to leave it at that. It felt like he was beginning to infringe on territory he shouldn't tread on.

To save them from the dreary topic, a newcomer arrived in spectacular fashion. Yawning, and loudly proclaiming his presence— “I am tired, _tout-le-monde_!” It was the Vizier, the King's aide.

He wore a stiff lilac gown with flounces and big panniers. One might think that strange in other countries, but in Utoa the high official's taste for cross-dressing was widely known. The effeminate man held together his wig and fixed his neck ruffle while fast approaching the terrace.

“Ringo,” Ryuuya announced as he got up to greet his long-time friend. The two shared a light embrace, during which the aged soldier poked humorously at the wispy pink wig atop his head, accidentally setting loose a strand of pearls. “Oh—” Ryuuya winced at Ringo's growing agitation.

“One of these days I will reveal your birth name to everyone if you keep doing that.” Ringo fixed the strand back in place and steadied his tall wig again.

“You wouldn't dare to,” Ryuuya scoffed.

“I _am_ a minister. I can do whatever I please.” He pulled out a fan from his skirt and playfully smacked the guard in the forehead.

Everyone else seemed unfazed by the new appearance, but Ren paid them close attention, curious about their relationship. While they interluded, he finished up his glass of wine, and piled it with the rest of the empty glasses.

Ringo announced the purpose of his visit, pointing the closed fan to Ryuuya's chest. “I'm going to sleep and all of you shan't see me until the evening. But before then, _you_ have an appointment with the King. He wishes to speak to you about a certain matter of security.”

Ren gulped while hearing this, hoping it wasn't about his blunder specifically. Ryuuya must have felt a pair of eyes on him because he turned around to catch the young guard's gaze. Without speaking up to reassure him, the older soldier picked up his tricorne hat and placed it on his head. He curtly nodded to everyone before stalking off into the palace.

Ringo fanned himself, clearly amused by the drama. “Hmm! It's quite warm already. We'll be moving to the summer palace soon.” He waved theatrically to the guards before taking his leave as well, slipping the fan into his skirt, and holding up his gown as he shimmied away.

After a silent moment, Ranmaru pointed to half the lounging guards. “You. Pick up this mess and bring it back to the kitchens. The rest of you, get back to your posts.” Despite his lower rank, no one, not even a noble, dared defy him.

Ren, however, officially retired from his shift, and longed to return to his rooms in the palace. He wondered when he might see those faces again. They were an interesting lot. But the Palace Guard was merely a branch of the Royal Guard. He was only ever confined to guarding within its walls. Someone like the Second Commanding Officer would then be seen on occasion. He tried to stifle his slight disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that Ryuuya has a different name at birth is actually a headcanon accredited to Giulia!! I think it stems from the fact that Ryuuya's name can be read two different ways.


	4. Summer (III)

The brisk wind howled and hit them. It was a cool early summer evening, and the sun began its slow descent from the sky. The galloping of horses beat loudly in their ears, and the sounds of their blowing and whinnying filled the otherwise absence of chatter.

The King's carriage moved forward leisurely, surrounded by its caravan of guards. They were en route to the summer palace. The formation was made up of men lining each side and even more men guarding the rear and front. The Captain of the Guard lead them at the forefront. Next to him was the Second Commanding Officer.

Ryuuya's horse nickered and neighed. His eyes were concentrated on the road until the Captain called out to him. He pulled his horse in closer to hear better. After the man relayed his message, he nodded his reply, and slowly let himself fall back. The soldiers' horses made room for him as he aligned with the carriage, peering into the passenger window. He seemed to need a word with the King.

Ren saw all of this from atop his horse. He wondered what it could mean but something else caught his attention from the corner of his eye. “....” He pulled the reigns and squeezed his way forward. Leveled with someone, he lifted his leg and kicked the other's riding boot to catch their attention. A short blond boy immediately turned his head, glaring at Ren.

“What do you want?” he spat. It looked like he was ready to pick a fight as usual. But that's probably because Ren did nothing other than instigate him regularly.

Ren furrowed his brows, holding his tricorne steady, trying to sound stern. “You stole my horse?”

“ _Excuse_ me?” The blond guard looked down to examine the horse beneath him and then the horse next to him. Then it was his turn to snarl, looking back at the taller guard with contempt. “Oi! Wait. And you stole _my_ horse?! How did you—?”

But Ren ignored the accusation, looking slightly irritated. “Look.” He went on to prove his case. “Look near her eye. There's a cream coloured spot in the same shape as the one on her flank. That's my  _Bunnylady_.” He paused, then added with a huff, “It's not right to steal another man's lady, _Shorty_.”

Evoking the smaller guard's nickname was enough to rile him up again. “And _that's_ Fighting Prince that you're sitting on! I was looking for him everywhere. You're not even a part of the main guard like I am. You're a _palace_ guard," he puffed. "You don't get a permanent horse," Syo said in a small voice, and continued, "Training with her for a fortnight doesn't automatically make her yours.” He shook his head in frustration.

“You can't fight true love, Shorty,” is what he replied curtly. He still wasn't going to give up. He had really bonded with that horse. The shorty, more appropriately named Syo, merely rolled his eyes.

“If you're done here, I have a mission, soldier.” The voice that cut in was Ryuuya's. He'd closed in without any of them noticing, and faced Ren incredulously.“You were so loud, I think the whole cavalry knows of your love affair now.” Ren half-smiled. It'd been a few weeks since he'd last seen him. “Jinguji. I would be glad to bestow that horse to you if you join our ranks outside the palace. Until then, your true love stays in my possession.” He turned to Syo then, who was smirking like a stupid fool. “The mission, Kurusu. The Crown Prince wants to ride outside of the carriage. He begged, so naturally the King obliged. Since you're small, there should be room enough on your saddle for two. I'm entrusting him to you until he wishes to return to the carriage. Go.”

“Yes sir!” he shouted, fumbled in excitement, and began to maneuver his horse toward the carriage.

The switch was instantaneous. The carriage stopped momentarily, and the boy hopped onto Syo's horse, wrapping both arms securely around his waist. The redhead Prince was taller, but they were both the same age. Syo rode back to his former place as the officer moved away again. Ren quietly waved goodbye to his back.

“I can't believe Officer Hyuuga entrusted _me_ with a mission. Prince Otoya, you're the best..!” There were stars in his eyes. He idolized Ryuuya more than anyone. And though he had a complex about his height, he wasn't bothered when the latter mentioned it at all.

“It's been a while, Prince Ikki.” Ren reached out and clasped a hand with the Prince who squeezed it in turn.

“It's so nice to see you both again! Truthfully, I was hoping I would get to see you two today. I'm so bored of my studies.” He groaned, and sighed, and let his head flop backwards. But in a moment he perked back up with a light in his eyes. “You're my only friends around here.”

“That's cute,” Ren replied. “Ikki is like a pup.” He leaned over and pulled the Prince's cheek, making him grin and blush bashfully.

Syo's eyes widened in alarm. “Oi, Ren, don't let anyone catch you speaking like that—agh—Ren! Let go of him! It's bad enough that you gave him a ridiculous nickname, but now you're forgetting his title and _your_ place.”

The Prince squeezed his arms tighter around the boy's waist. “I don't mind, Syo! Ren is like an older brother to me. And it feels nice to be paid so much attention. The lack of formality is what I need sometimes. It's like a treat.” He smirked. “For being a good pup.”

Ren pulled the reigns in his hands, trying to keep the gap between them safe enough.“Uh oh— I think Shorty wants to retain that sense of formality between us.”

Otoya pursed his lips in thought. “He wants to be a prince!”

“Yes, I want to— _whaaat_?! No—” Syo's whole body shook frantically, unable to comprehend what was suddenly going on.

Ren joined the teasing. “Ha! Prince Shorty admitted it.”

“I decree you Prince for a day.” Otoya raised an arm over each of Syo's shoulders imitating the saber during a knighting.

Syo panicked momentarily at being unable to release his control of the horse to strangle Ren.“ _Aaaah_ , keep it down! Please. We can't let anyone hear—”

Suddenly a string of gasps, neighs, and “Make way!” rang out as the formation slightly broke to let through a horse quickly galloping to the forefront. It was a pure white stallion. Sitting astride the purebred was none other than Camus. As he passed through with such authority, there was an instant when his eyes connected with Ren's. He looked cold and forbidding. He rode out to the front of the caravan, matching pace with the Captain.

A bunch of hushed murmurs broke out between the men. Wherever Camus went, he was the discussion of harsh gossip. Otoya seemed clueless about the nature of these rumours and asked for clarification.

Syo sighed, peering at the distant Camus' back. “I'm not certain it's appropriate for us to be discussing these things, but if you ask, I'm not allowed to deny you.”

“Camus is legendary,” Ren interjected, excited about the danger of speaking out. “—Legendary in that he's infamous. The whole Guard is afraid of him.” He said it with half a laugh, but in truth he was also afraid. Some of those rumours weren't pretty, but they had to come from somewhere. They might even be true.

Otoya's interest was piqued. “Well, do tell me! I want to know!” he wiggled impatiently.

“He's perfect in all that he does. He never misses a target in practice, and he's never lost a sword fight. He can memorize any document after reading it only once.” Ren spoke slowly.“Some people think he's not human.”

“What is he then?” Otoya looked horrified but intrigued at the same time. Ren just shrugged and smirked.

“They say he's the Queen's personal assassin.” Syo made sure to keep his tone hushed. “And that he has hundreds of confirmed kills. In Silk Palace, the Queen had many enemies at court, and when one of them died mysteriously, it was never an accident.”

“C-Camus is like that..?” Otoya gulped, peeking out from above Syo's shoulder to where the blond foreigner was yonder.

Syo nodded furiously. “Possibly!” Then he lowered his tone again. “They say that even till today he slips into the night taking out those that are adamantly against the new Queen on the throne. Since the previous King outlawed censorship, there's a lot being said in the papers. I never heard of anyone at court dying, but the regular citizens are without the same protections. Slandering the Queen in any way is dangerous.”

The Prince was left lost for words until Ren brought up the most scandalous part of all. “They say he's in love with the Queen.”

Syo hissed. “Oi, Ren, don't—”

“No, please tell me! I..I swear on my title as Crown Prince that I won't tell a soul.” The redhead looked fiercely determined to swallow all the information present.

“They say he's in love with the Queen,” Ren repeated. “Some people think she loves him back, but others are less inclined to believe so. Since the country is so fragmented about her, she's the staple of many harsh rumours.”

Otoya was awed. He seemed to take the time to mull it over in his mind. He drew out the silence for a moment before replying calmly. “She's mysterious, but I don't dislike her.” Then he looked to Ren with clear eyes. “And I believe she does love my father.” With no point to disagree, Ren and Syo both resigned to that opinion with a nod. That was the end of that.

“Please forgive me for speaking out of line,” asked Ren earnestly.

“And myself, I apologize—” Syo jumped in nervously.

“Of course you're pardoned,” Otoya smiled brightly. “My grandfather believed in free speech and gave the people back their voices, and so naturally I think it's a wonderful thing that everyone is entitled to. Even if it's slanderous against my family. Even if it's something awful about _me_. I asked you about the rumours, so it's entirely my responsibility.” The two guards responded with small smiles of their own. He really was growing up to be a fine person, and would no doubt be the same incredible King as his father.

But for now he was still a kid. And that kid nearly jumped over Syo's shoulders, pointing to the growing structure in the distance. “Look, Syo! Ren! We're here before sun down! That never happened before.” They finally arrived in Ilirie, to the summer palace.

 


	5. Summer (IV)

The royal family had already been a day settled at the summer palace when Ren was employed for his first shift. It was that awkward time before dawn when the sky was still dull. The summer palace was less spacious than the one at Visirie, and so the guards more often saw each other during their hours.

Ren was one such guard slacking off in the early morning. He had finished talking with a fellow guard when he wandered too far away from his post. Still, he wouldn't stop himself if he could— he was on his way to visit someone important.

“Hello, mother,” he barely whispered.

Hanging on the wall among the many different portraits of the blue bloodline was a singular painting that stood out from the rest. It was made with brighter colours and finer strokes, more common to that era. Upon the canvas, two ladies sat in each other's company dressed in regal court gowns. One was the late Queen Kotomi, and the other was her most cherished lady-in-waiting and closest confidante. His mother, Renge.

He'd never met his mother. She had died in childbirth while bringing him into the world. When he discovered the painting a year before, he scarcely left its side, even during his work hours. It got him into a lot of trouble with the Palace Guard Commander.

But it was the one thing his father couldn't destroy before he died. And he wouldn't have gotten his hands on it, _it_ being a present to the late Queen. Her presence in the painting is what protected his mother, and for that he always felt grateful. He never understood why his father would do what he did until he learned more about the portrait's history.

It was commissioned by Queen Kotomi's brother. He was rumoured to have coveted Renge. His mother and the Queen and her brother originated from the same country and were said to be close as children.

He stared up at the painting wistfully. She was beautiful. She had long red hair the same shade as his own, and piercing blue eyes. They were the same eyes that he and his brothers shared.

She was an excellent singer and entertained the court for years, famously called "The Angel of Visirie". Ren inherited her talent. While growing up, he was nicknamed "The Bath Siren" for his clear young voice, which was celebrated in the group baths that noble families took to honour their guests. But when his voice started to crack, he quit singing.“Care to enlighten me why you're wandering around?” Officer Hyuuga boke into his thoughts, catching him offguard for the second time in a week. It was embarrassing how he was made a fool in front of him over and over again. First with the cat, then while horsing around with Syo, and now in front of his mother.

“I— uhh...” He was at a loss.

Ryuuya's glare saw right through him. “You're not making a very good impression of yourself so far, Jinguji.”

He didn't have anyone to blame for his carelessness. Ren often slept during his guard duties. He was usually made to guard unimportant spots that were rarely visited by anyone. Still, he never had someone on his case like that before. Everyone knew he was unmotivated. And no one was going to storm the palace with an army at the crack of dawn.

Ren knew the best way out of this would to be completely honest. If he played his cards right, he could get off the hook and garner some sympathy while at it.“I was merely.. visiting my mother.” He pointed to the second woman in the portrait. “I know I should have done it off-duty.. and for that I take full responsibility.” He didn't really intend to take responsibility. He was hoping that Ryuuya would understand.

“I'll have to write this in the log,” he admitted. So Ren was getting in trouble anyway. “But...” he continued, “Your shift is over in...” He pulled out a pocket watch from inside his navy coat. “In less than ten minutes. I won't mind if you continue looking at her until then.”

Ren exhaled in disbelief. He decided to make use of the offer and continue standing there anyway. Ryuuya didn't leave right away either. He crossed his arms and looked up at the painting with him. After a few moments he opened his mouth.

“She is your mother?” he asked to be sure.

“Was,” Ren replied solemnly.

“Oh.” He deflated as if he'd just remembered. Ren's parents weren't alive anymore. The Head of the Jinguji house was the eldest brother Seiichirou. Ryuuya unfurled his arms, not sure what to do with them anymore. He scratched his cheek. “How did she..?”

The redhead was concealing a frown but he forced on a grin before turning to face him. “My tragic backstory isn't for free,” he teased, though his voice was hard. “You probably don't want to hear me talk about her anyway— I mean, I didn't really know her— I— I barely—”

“I want to hear more about it,” he cut in gracefully, giving Ren some time to catch his breath. “I make it my business to _know_ my soldiers.”

Ren breathed deeply, regaining his composure. He just about opened up his mouth to decline again when a group freshly awakened guards – some of them jabbering – entered the foyer, each looking to find the quickest easiest paths to their posts. He had to wait for them all to disperse down the hall before replying. But before he could utter a word, Ryuuya spoke.

“Let's patrol the beach side.”

“What?” He rubbed one of his eyes, skeptical of what he just heard.

Ryuuya crossed his arms again, grinning. “Your punishment for abandoning your post is extra time on duty, patrolling the beach side. With me.”

 


	6. Summer (V)

The waves crashed and receded, and crashed again, each time lapping up a bit more sand in their quest to reach shore. The sand that crushed beneath their feet inevitably found its way into their buckle shoes. The trek down the beach was a little more effort than the two initially expected. Ren suspected the pain in his calves to last until the evening.

Ryuuya adjusted his hat to shield his eyes from the rising sun. Ren did the same. The older guard smiled to himself, musing over some thought. “We'll patrol the shore and make certain that no unidentified personnel are around,” he said. Ren peered at the vast coastline. There didn't seem to be any life to speak of. Well, except for the birds that squawked overhead.

Ren said he wouldn't speak for free, so Ryuuya offered up his payment. “I don't typically tell just anyone about me,” he mentioned.

“I'm not merely anyone,” Ren smirked. Ryuuya looked like he wanted to say something. The younger guard motioned for him to begin. He shrugged, and started with his upbringing.

For all the court knew, Ryuuya was a commoner by birth. But what it didn't know was that his late grandfather had also been a royal guard once. Ryuuya grew up listening to his grandfather's heroic stories about protecting the former King. Through that he fostered a sense of justice and thrill for adventure. The dream of becoming a royal guard became his own, and he worked hard to make it come true.

His family, all of which supported him, helped to make ends meet so that he could learn the necessary skills. But when his younger brothers were born, his father became less supportive. He blamed Ryuuya for having to deprive his siblings of an easier life, one that would have been secured provided he hadn't chosen such an expensive dream— which left them close to the poverty line. His father also hoped that one of his new sons would take over the family business—managing the town's holy temple, which was something he was bitter about Ryuuya declining. After feeling the pressure for too long, he left the village to complete his training closer to the castle, where he could study the military more personally.

He closed up the story by saying that his family no longer did want for anything. Being promoted to position of Vizier's personal guard made his salary rise up exponentially. They were well off now. He did visit them on occasion, to see his baby brothers grow up, but also to further prove to his family that their efforts and support were worth it. And he always brought back presents for them all, even his dogs.

“You're a family man,” Ren said as he tilted his head in amusement. Ryuuya looked tired like he was not used to speaking so much at one time. The young sentry decided that his beginnings were a taxing memory. Or maybe the reminiscing reminded him of something he wanted to forget.

Ryuuya brought a curled hand up to his mouth and quietly belched into it. “I think that's payment enough.” Why was he so interested in Ren's story anyway?

Ren pursed his lips. “I don't know what you're expecting of me. I'm not a family-cherishing man.” He pushed some stray hair behind his ear, then looked at the ocean like it was suddenly of great interest to him.

“Start with the painting. I'm very interested in that,” he tried to encourage him. “Your mother was beautiful.” Ren exhaled sheepishly at that. He turned back around, accidentally meeting Ryuuya's amber eyes.

He bit his lip, reluctance writ all over his face. It wasn't like him to share his private life. He thought Ryuuya would be that kind of person too. But it was some kind of exceptional circumstance, he thought. If he was going to bring his mother and personal life into his working hours, then he owed an explanation at the very least.

So Ren spoke about his mother and why he didn't like his birthday. Because it was the day she died giving him life. He started off slowly at first, but watching Ryuuya's concerned face made him decide to open up. He tried not to mention his father, but it slipped out as he explained. He talked about his brothers and their importance in upholding the family name. Then he spoke of his own ambitions—or rather the lack of them, earning him a disappointed shake of the head.

“You don't seem passionate about being a guard. Why is that?” Ryuuya loosened his cravat, letting in some cool air. There were no summer uniforms for the Guard, and being one was suffering.

Ren lay a hand down on the hilt of his sword, trying to keep it from swinging too much.“I don't think there was ever a time that I liked it. It's probably what my father would have wanted me to do with my life, and when I think that, I lose any motivation.” Ryuuya nodded as if understanding.

“Were you under my direct authority, I would drill a new motivation into that head of yours.” Ryuuya nodded again as if he'd said something clever. “Or else discharge you.” Ren chuckled dryly at his words. He didn't like the sound of that. “Because,” he continued, “We only want soldiers that are serious about guarding the royal family. I hope you understand that.”

“—Of _course_ I understand that. I _am_ serious about guarding their lives. I would defend the Lady Lamb to my last _breath_.” Ren got himself worked up, slightly offended at the accusation. He pulled his hat off and stuffed it under his arm, then used his other hand to smooth the loose orange hair back into place.

Ryuuya was quiet for a time, and then he spoke up. “Who is Lady Lamb?” He put a finger to his lips in genuine curiosity.

Ren choked on the air, coughing for a few seconds. He pounded on his chest, forcing himself to breathe deeply. “Did I say that..? That's... an affectionate name that I gave the Princess.” He felt like he was about to get reprimanded.

Ryuuya raised an eyebrow. “You personally know the Princess?”

“Yes sir,” Ren replied humourlessly.

Ryuuya nodded slightly. It would make sense. All the most powerful nobles were closely tied to one another. “And do you give new names to everyone that you know, regardless of their rank?”

Ren saw that his reputation preceded him in many different ways. “...Yes sir,” he replied again.

“Hn..” Ryuuya seemed to lose himself in thought before coming back to the topic.“And what name would you give me?”

Ren pondered a full minute. He stared up at the gulls flying over them. “Ryuuga,” he intoned quietly.

Ryuuya flashed some teeth. Was he grinning? “No,” is all he said.

“I thought so.” Ren straightened his back and puffed out his chest like he was making a royal decree. “You shall be only Ryuuya to me.” He didn't expect the nickname to hold anyway.

“That's more informal than I would like, but I'll gladly accept your terms of familiarity. Forgive me if I continue to call you by your surname. For my military rank, it's protocol.” He couldn't get something off his mind however— “How well do you know the Princess Haruka?”

“We've been close since childhood. I've grown a rather fond attachment to her, well, since...that time.” Ryuuya thought he might be speaking about the late Queen's passing, but Ren's mind was on a more lighthearted memory. “My stomach aches from the thought.”

“Pardon?” He looked confused.

“If you promise not to tell the King, I'll tell you of my secret act of high treason.” Ryuuya's expression grew wary, but Ren quickly waved a hand in his defense. “I'm jesting! Allow me to tell you the origins of my intense dislike...for _chocolate_.”

Ren's aversion to chocolate came from a childhood trauma at a time during which the second eldest of three princesses were married off to a prince in Spain. The Spanish monks sent the King's summer palace tons of chocolate, which were given in excess to the royal families. It became a popular commodity, and the store emptied fast.

As a silly test of courage, Ren's brothers dared him to enter the King's kitchens and steal a big block of the unsweetened chocolate. It was later revealed having been saved for the youngest princess' birthday cake per special request. He brought it all the way back to the wing where his family remained guests, and as soon as panic broke out about a kitchen thief, his brothers snickered at his fear, and he was faced with eating the entire block of chocolate to remain undiscovered. He was very deliberate in leaving no traces behind, and stayed in bed all week under the premise of a stomach illness. His brothers were so impressed that they henceforth quit making him the brunt of their shenanigans.

Unfortunately, extra chocolate from the king's private wares didn't make it on time for Princess Haruka's birthday celebration, and Ren was left feeling the guilt for years. However, he did form a genuine affection for the princess, who was likewise his very distant cousin, and watched over her for a decade after.

“Pffft.” Ryuuya, felt guilty for laughing at a story that was at the Princess' expense. “You got your deserved punishment, Jinguji. You won't enjoy anymore chocolate for the rest of your life, I hope.”

“What a horrible thing to wish on a person,” Ren whined sarcastically. He clucked his tongue.

“That's the price for high treason, soldier. That, or the guillotine. Thankfully we're not in France.” The older man looked down at his shoes filled with sand. “Let's pause a moment here.” He began a balancing act of taking off his buckle shoes and emptying them without letting his stockings touching the sand.

Ren stuck his hat back on and did the same. He used the brief time to take in his surroundings again. They had wandered more closely to the water's edge, and he had to be careful that the waves didn't touch his shoes.

The hues of blue were breathtaking. In contrast to the soft azure sky, the ocean took on a vibrant teal tone. Mixed in with golden sand and golden sun, it became a tropical paradise. However neither the fluffy white clouds nor the shade from several palms diminished the heat that poured on them with the intensity of the newly risen sun. He wished he could take off his clothes right then.

His eyes wandered along the path of wet sand until he came upon something light blue in colour. He quickly retrieved it before the waves washed in again. He looked at it in his hand. It was a fig shell.

“What have you got there?” Ryuuya asked.

“Open your hand, Officer.” Ren hovered his enclosed fist above the guard's open palm before promptly dropping the seashell into his care. “Do you know the Utoan superstition? Gift someone a blue fig shell and it will bring them good luck. It only works as a gift.”

Ryuuya looked at him strangely. “I don't believe in such things anymore, but I will, uh, accept it anyway.” He slipped it into his coat pocket. “Thank you,” he whispered under his breath. Ren just smiled.

The long-haired guard pulled off his hat again, tossing it down to the dry sand. When addressed with a quizzical look, he shrugged it off with half a smile. “I'm _suffocating_ ,” he pleaded. “There's no one else around as far as the eye can see. Therefore..” He pulled off his coat and threw it down as well. “I'll check if anyone's under the water.”

“You're _not_ doing this,” it was Ryuuya's turn to plead. But Ren didn't listen, in fact the pleading egged him on. He untied his cravat, pulled off his vest, and unstrapped his sword all within a minute. When he finally got down to his undergarment, he pulled the black ribbon out of his hair and lay it across Ryuuya's shoulder. “Jinguji,” he implored again, but the younger guard wasn't ready to listen. Turned around, he stretched and flexed his back muscles.

“It's probably a two man job. There's still time to join me,” he teased. With one last lingering look at Ryuuya, Ren ran straight into the water. If it was chilly, it didn't faze him. He turned back around, waving an arm, and shouted back— his long hair blowing in the wind. “If I find anyone, I will report to you immediately!” He dove into an oncoming wave and surfaced seconds later.

Ryuuya couldn't believe it. An underling stripped down to his skivvies right in front of him and brazenly dove into the ocean without a care in the world. And it was a nobleman that did it, too. He wondered if Ren was the kind to act like a commoner, but then he reasoned with himself, it was probably that third-child mentality.

He should have scolded him about his duties instead of watching open-mouthed. He called out to Ren every time the latter resurfaced, and they began a long-distance correspondence about responsibilities that eventually tired out his voice. Every few minutes he routinely declined an invite to join him in the ocean. Instead, he was made to look after the younger guard's clothes.

Ryuuya stripped the hair tie off his shoulder and slipped it into his pocket. He stood next to the pile of clothes, looking out of place. He sighed when he looked down at the articles. They were mostly navy blue lined with silver— the colours that symbolized the Royal Guard. The dust from the sand already dirtied his uniform. Such things were very difficult to clean. And he would know. He had to wash his own uniform at the beginning.

The aged soldier sighed, breathing in the briny air. He wasn't going to be too harsh on Ren. He used to be young once too. Ryuuya watched on in amusement and a bit of awe as Ren swam in close. He looked almost ethereal coming up out of the water.

“Jinguji,” he called out loudly. “You know, you look almost like a.. a merbeing.” He hoped his voice trailed off too soon, but Ren surprised him with his good hearing.

“I thought...” Ren mussed his wet hair back, squinting up at Ryuuya under the bright sunlight. “I thought you didn't believe in superstition,” he said, floating above the sand.

“Yes, well.. every now and then, life shocks me.” Ryuuya didn't know what he was saying anymore. He felt quite foolish. “Hurry up and get out now..! I won't be responsible for your clothing anymore. I am returning to the palace.”

“Yes sir,” Ren said in a small voice. Ryuuya had already his back turned.

 


	7. Summer (VI)

The courtyard was swept with throngs of people draped in their best fabrics. It was a celebration welcoming the warmer season. Lots of laughter and chatter filled the night air. They called it a masked ball. It was more properly pronounced the Einsatz Masque. All gentry and nobility from the kingdom were invited to the summer palace, welcomed to dance and enjoy in the festivities.

Walking through the outdoor crowds and inspecting the order of things was Ryuuya. He tended to the security, addressing complaints where there were any. He moved carefully throughout the gardens. There were many couples stargazing. Just as he turned around the large trickling fountain did the fireworks start. They blossomed in the sky with large echoing booms that reminded him of gunshots. They would be pretty if the sounds didn't stir up unpleasant memories.

He reached into his uniform pocket. Indeed, even on festive occasions such as a masked ball, he was still on guard. In the recesses of his pocket, he rubbed a black ribbon between his fingers. It was Ren's. He'd forgotten to give it back a few days before. If he managed to see him again, he'd return it. Ryuuya thought the boy might be off duty. Being a noble, Ren Jinguji was probably off somewhere fancifully dressed and hidden under a mask just like the others. Still, he counted on running into him somehow.

The aged guard rubbed the back of his head. His short orange hair glowed under the light emitted from the fireworks. They were too loud. He preferred the tamer sound of the crickets, which permeated the outdoors with their hymns. After a few moments, he decided all was well outside and turned on his heel to return indoors. He moved swiftly through the courtyard, entering back into the palace halls.

There was no shortage of people. Guests filled the hallways and every available room. The banquet hall was teeming with party-goers. The gentlemen bowed low, and the ladies curtsied in reply. Nobles pranced and danced around in sparkling and feathered masks. The merriment and general splendor was of course accompanied by the court's finest music.

Ryuuya had no interest in moderating the dance however. He wanted to observe the other parts of the castle. He passed some professional dancers doing their acrobatics. The people seemed to love it. It certainly was a busy evening where everything was happening. There were even card games and gambling, he noticed, as he passed the several many parlors in the palace. In one such backrooms a woman sang to several of her admirers. It was while watching these activities that he ran into a familiar face.

The face belonged to Ranmaru Kurosaki. Not who he hoped for, but he was glad to see the man nevertheless. They were good friends and went way back. Ryuuya himself trained Ranmaru for the Royal Guard. They struck up a conversation for several minutes, taking in their surroundings as they did. There was plenty to talk about.

“There's the ambassador of Spain,” Ranmaru pointed out with a mean chuckle. “Wearing a powdered wig. And the _only_ man wearing one, I'll add. He looks so foolish.”

Ryuuya shook his head. “Our King despises wearing wigs,” he exasperated. “So it's not in fashion here, and yet it's quite popular everywhere else. _Our_ ambassadors look improper in every other court.”

Ranmaru nodded at that. “The women don't seem to mind wearing them though. I never understood why that is.”

“Oh,” Ryuuya interjected. “ _That_ is because the Princess enjoys wearing them, so all the women emulate her. We live in quite the backwards society,” he explained. “Our King is the father of forward thinking as well. I suppose we're lucky in that regard.” He was speaking of all the opportunities they had despite their commoner status. They owed much gratitude to the Enlightenment. Ranmaru nodded to that.

“Ryuuya,” Ranmaru pointed toward the end of the hall. “I'm getting together for drinks with a few others. You're welcome..?”

“To join you?” He put on a grin. “I'm technically on duty, but it's near the end of the night anyway.”

Ranmaru lowered his eyes. “I'm going to get you barking at the moon.” He intended to get him mad drunk.

Ryuuya gave a throaty chuckle in reply. “If you get me talking to a tree, you'll have done your job.”

“Haargh!” Ranmaru squeezed an arm around Ryuuya and pushed him through the crowd. “Make way! Senior soldiers coming through!”

“ _I'm_ the senior if we had to compare our ages,” Ryuuya corrected.

The slightly younger guard rolled his eyes. “One old man and a devilishly handsome fella coming through!”

Ryuuya clucked his tongue. “You're intoxicated already, aren't you?” Ranmaru merely laughed in response.

The night's party roared on as the two joined their comrades in the lower kitchens, which bustled with workers. Reiji scolded them a lot but joined them as his own shift came to a hurried end.

Within several hours the excitement of the evening died down and more people, mostly women and children, left for their carriages as the clock struck midnight.

Ryuuya rejoined the rest of the slowing festivities, hiccuping and failing miserably to keep his balance. He recalled Ranmaru filling up his cup too many times, the rest of them egging him on. He couldn't remember when they began a game of it, but he was determined to win it. And even though he won, he was surely going to lose— lose the entire contents of his stomach were he not careful enough trying not to sway through the halls. At the moment he was officially off-duty so he couldn't scold himself for doing what he did. He _did_ have a delightful time after all. At least he wasn't barking at the moon.

Finally regaining some sort of equilibrium, Ryuuya held his head as he passed by one of the parlor rooms. He saw some guards from the new shift breaking up a fight; probably the desperate dispute of someone that gambled their fortune away. _A pity_ , he thought. He passed by the room where he previously saw a woman singing earlier in the night. She was replaced by another courtier, the minstrel Natsuki, playing a violin for the players as his dog pranced between the tables.

Seeing Natsuki and likewise Elizabeth briefly reminded him of the time he was on that wild dog chase earlier in the summer. He thought of the other dog, the one belonging to Camus— Alexander was the name, he believed. He recalled them both slobbering on his cheeks, and he smiled to himself. Who wouldn't be happy to know that dogs instinctively liked them? Then his focus went to the cat. Something about the cat... _oh_. Wasn't it Ren that fished the cat out of the study? _Ah_ — he slipped his hand back into his pocket and pulled out the black hair ribbon.

It would probably be more prudent to return it the next time he saw him, but he confessed to himself, he actually wanted to see the lad. He was most interested in the kind of attire he would be wearing. What would a high noble like him wear? A lavishly embroidered silk coat, with waistcoat and breeches trimmed in gold, he imagined. And his hair let down, red locks cascading, complimented by a colourful mask that matched his outfit. It was while he wondered these things that he found himself subconsciously searching for the boy, passing through the halls, looking for hair that fit the fiery description.

He moved into a quieter part of the palace on a higher floor. There wasn't a lot of light to go by, which made the corridors darker than the first floor. Nothing but several drunk youths chasing around women— courtiers he thought at first, but upon a closer inspection, they seemed to be engaging in behaviour unsuitable for the nobility; some baring their legs, and others strewn across the laps of men. His next guess was that they were courtesans, a much lovelier name for high-class prostitutes.

He seemed to fit right in with the demographic client because some of the women flashed suggestive expressions his way, and he fought the urge to run away. Though he was uncomfortable in such a setting, the growing knot in the gut of his stomach suggested that it was entirely and horribly possible that he could find Ren there. After all, didn't his reputation indicate it?

Ren Jinguji was a notorious flirt, a ladykiller, a tomcat, and a giggolo, and— he walked straight into the wall as he turned a corner. The pain hissed in his shoulder so much that he doubled over for a moment, then leaned back against the wall, and slipped down into a seat on the floor. He wiped his eyes and stared at the ribbon still clutched in his hand. What was he doing? _What_ was he thinking? He really was inebriated.

He could just return the ribbon next time he saw him during work, or why even bother at all? Ren was a nobleman. He'd have a hundred more ribbons and could afford to lose one everyday. He suddenly felt foolish for taking the simple task so seriously. He'd just about gotten up to his wobbly feet again when the door to his left opened.

Out stumbling came the first half of a woman whose shrill laughter broke the silence. Accompanied very intimately behind her was a man with a familiar pair of cerulean eyes that immediately found his. Ryuuya made an audible gasp and the young man reciprocated in surprise.

“Ryuuya—” Ren managed to stumble out of his mouth. His bare face grew hot but his expression remained constant which suggested that he wasn't at all ashamed at being caught cohorting with a courtesan.

But Ryuuya drew back quickly, clutching his coat in shock. It was just as he predicted, but it somehow made him sick to his stomach to be right. Suddenly Ryuuya held his head again, this time in disbelief. It was a lot more than simply _cohorting_. Their position suggested he was—

“Look who it is,” said Ren in his velvety voice.

He was holding her from behind, her red curls stuck to the sides of her masked face, and she giggled incessantly, unperturbed by the new appearance. Her skirts were bunched up around her waist, and her corset unlaced and pushed all the way down; he had one hand firmly grasping a breast on her fully bared chest, and the other one hidden around her thigh as he kept her body pulled tightly into him. _Is he grinding into her?_ —his mind raced. Just enough draping fabric covered up the indecency Ryuuya was certain that was happening right in front of his eyes.

“I—?!” He turned red ear-to-ear.

Ren turned up his eyes at Ryuuya as he returned to sucking her neck, a devilish smile forming on his half hidden features. “What a surprise, Ryuuya. Didn't peg you as the type to come to these quarters. Would you like to join us?” he drawled.

Ryuya's stomach lurched as the masked woman began up her laughter again, her tongue sticking out in a pant. Is that what Ren did? Have orgies with his fellow guardsmen? It was too much for him to take in at once. He covered up his eyes immediately, out of respect for the lady, but he couldn't stop himself from gawking.

“I—”

“Is that a no? Well excuse me then.” It sounded like Ren was clutching the door handle, ready to close it on him.

“I—”

The sound of the door closing followed. Then through the door he heard the woman crying out in pleasure. He didn't know he was clutching the ribbon so tightly until he reluctantly let it fall to the floor. He uncovered his eyes and turned around, moving unsteadily away once more, his head pounding in pain.

The troubled walk away soon turned into an angry stalk. He seriously contemplated having no further relations with Ren, though not fully certain of his motivation since the boy hadn't done anything to explicitly offend him. Just the impropriety of it all—!

When he made it down to the main floor he suddenly clutched himself over the nearest potted plant and hurled into it the unsettled beer straight from his stomach. Wiping his mouth, he dawdled away, completely upset.

 


End file.
